Roads Less Traveled
by YonderBailey
Summary: Childhood friends Hikari and Takeru have just three days to truck halfway across Japan in order to make it to their brothers’ semi-legitimate wedding ceremony. Crazy hijinks ensue. AU. Taito-Takesuke-Kenyako
1. Absolutely Batshit Crazy

**Don't worry, guys- I'm not taking a break from **_**Glittering Wind! **_**It's just that sometimes the angst gets me down, and I wanted something more light-hearted to work on between chapters. :)**

**I'm not really sure where the inspiration for this one came from. It contains a few couples I haven't written before, so you can think of this as an experiment of sorts. Sorry if they're not your pairings of choice. I hope you can still enjoy the fic!**

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**Full Summary: **(AU) Childhood friends Hikari and Takeru have just three days to truck halfway across Japan in order to make it to their brothers' semi-legitimate wedding ceremony. Meanwhile, said brothers are having their own issues just trying to pull everything together. Will love see them through to the end? Probably not, but it's a nice sentiment. **  
Rating: **T for language and naughty references  
**Disclaimer: **I am earning no profit from writing this fanfiction. I am not affiliated with the _Digimon _franchise. This story is for purely for the lulz.

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Roads Less Traveled

Chapter One: Absolutely Batshit Crazy

* * *

"So, I think we should get married."

Up until this point, Ishida Yamato had been dozing quite peacefully with his head on his boyfriend's lap while the end credits of some variety show flickered in the dark living room. Now he shifted and sat up, rubbing blearily at his eyes.

"Wha-" Yawn. "-at?"

Taichi scratched at his mess of fluffy hair, looking a bit sheepish. "Um… I said that I think we should get married."

"…Why?"

"Well, because… because we've been together for like… ever, and I love you and wanna marry you. And stuff. Plus, wedding cake."

"… And this is how you propose."

"Yeah. Pretty much."

Yamato furrowed his brow in contemplation. "Can we even do that? Get married, I mean."

"I think I have an uncle who's a Buddhist monk," Taichi said faintly. "Or maybe he's Catholic. And actually, it could be my cousin. Not exactly sure."

"Do Buddhist monks get married?" Yamato wondered.

"Um. Maybe?"

The two looked at each other for a few minutes. Then, smiling, Yamato kissed his boyfriend on the mouth and wrapped his arms around his neck.

"Yeah, okay," he mumbled. "Marrying you wouldn't be so bad. We're practically married now, right?"

Taichi grinned, very relieved that Yamato hadn't called him an idiot and immediately dismissed the notion.

"Practically," he agreed. "This is mostly just for the cake and insurance."

"I guess we should call our families, then."

The darker boy frowned, and reached to touch Yamato's shaggy, cornsilk hair. "Actually, can we have sex first? Because you bleached your hair again today and it's really pretty and shiny."

Yamato rolled his eyes. "You have such a blonde fetish."

"No," Taichi insisted, "I have a _Yamato_ fetish, and you just happen to be blonde."

"'Kay, sex first," Yamato said absently, now that Taichi was running his hands up and down his thighs, "then we call our families. Actually, sex, then _sleep, _then we tackle families in the morning. Sound good?"

"Sounds great."

* * *

The next morning, Yagami Hikari was rudely awakened from a dream about unicorns by her cell phone blaring out the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers themesong.

"Oniichan?" she yawned into the receiver. "I don't get up this early, and that means you _definitely _don't."

_"Big news, Hika-pika! Big, life-changing news!"_

Hikari sat up in bed, shivering as a cool draft hit her bare arms. She quickly pulled the quilt up around her.

"What is it?" she asked.

_"I asked Yamato to marry me. He totally said yes, and then we had sex that almost broke the couch. It was awesome."_

Hikari winced, but she had long since given up on trying to explain to Taichi the concept of "too much information."

"I thought you two were basically already married," she said instead.

_"Well, yeah, but not legally. We haven't even had the cake yet." _

Hikari propped the phone between her ear and shoulder while she applied deodorant to her underarms and ran a brush through her short, pillow-mussed hair.

"True," she murmured, then slowly felt excitement bubbling in her chest. "Oniichan, that's great! I'm so happy for you two."

_"Thanks! One problem, though."_

"What?"

_"With the shortage of connections Yamato and I have to government officials willing to write up documents for same-sex couples in a country where same-sex marriage isn't legal yet…we kinda had to improvise."_

"Meaning…?"

_"There's this guy called Koguchi that Yamato's friend's sister used to date, and he's an ordained minister. Or at least he used to be. From what I understand, now he's a divorced alcoholic. In any case, Yamato talked to him this morning, and the dude's willing to write us up a marriage certificate if I introduce him to Fukumori Asako."_

"Who's Fukumori Asako?"

_"I have no idea, but he sounded so wasted on the phone that I don't think he really knows either. Worst comes to worst, I'll have to ask Mimi or someone to pretend."_

Hikari sighed and pulled her socks on. "I don't know, Oniichan. That sounds really shady."

_"Well, we don't exactly have a lot of options, do we? We wanna get hitched, and this Koguchi guy says he'll do it. You and Takeru can make it to the ceremony, right? It's just gonna be close friends and family."_

Hikari rifled through her closet, grimacing at her utter lack of attractive sweaters. Where in the world did she amass such a collection of hideous sweaters?

"Of course I'll make it," she said absently. "When is it? Are you guys having a summer wedding?"

_"Uh… no, not exactly."_

Finally, she managed to find a soft, pink cardigan that still had all of its buttons. She slipped it on and then chose a pair of jeans, still juggling the phone and a tube of mascara.

"When, then?"

Taichi's response took a moment to come. _"It, ah, seems we'll be making this thing even _more _untraditional by having it in the… winter."_

"Winter?" Hikari repeated in surprise. "You're waiting a whole year?"

_"… No. We're waiting, um, three days." _

Hikari nearly collapsed. "THREE _DAYS?" _

_"Deep breaths, Hikari! Deep breaths!" _

"Oniichan, that's insane!" she squawked. "More insane than you usually are! The only way we could make it from Tokyo to Miyazaki in three days is if we drove nonstop!"

_"Why can't you take the Shinkansen?" _

"Oh, like I have money for that!" the younger Yagami snapped. "I'm a photography student, Oniichan- I can barely afford three cups of ramen a day!"

Hikari rubbed at her temples in irritation as she listened to the sounds of her brother's mental cogs winding.

_"I'm sorry, Hikari, but…" _There was almost a desperation in his tone now. _"I really, really want to marry Yamato. Officially! Not 'Oh, you two are like a married couple' married, but _real_ married! And I'm pretty sure he wants to get married too, because he was extra-okay with me being on top last night. We didn't even argue about it!" _

"… You two _still _argue abo- never mind. I don't want that to become a discussion. But, Oniichan, _really? _Three days?!"

_"It's the latest date we can have," _Taichi said forlornly. _"Koguchi said that he's skipping town on Monday because the police have discovered new evidence that could have him put behind bars."_

"What was he accused of?!"

_"I dunno… murder, or rape, or… somethin'." _

"ONIICHAN!"

_"Please say you can make it, Hikari!" _Taichi begged. _"This means so much to both of us!" _

Hikari closed her eyes and truly tried to convince herself that everything would work out fine. "I'll… try my hardest, Oniichan."

_"Awesome! I gotta go now. Call me when you guys get a plan, okay?"_

"Okay," Hikari said faintly.

_"See you soon!" _

"Hopefully…"

_-Click- _

The college student pocketed her phone with a frown, then looked at herself in the mirror. She was met with the same reflection as always: a petite, average-looking Japanese girl with boy-short hair. (She had tried to let it grow out before, but it just turned into an untamable mess to rival her brother's. Apparently it ran in the family.) Nothing special. Just sweet, simple Hikari.

Right on cue, her cell phone rang. This time it was the generic comes-with-the-phone ringtone, because there was no song Takeru agreed to represent him.

"Hello there," she said, and lifted herself up onto the bathroom counter. Her short legs dangled over the edge.

_"Hey, Hikari. Um. Why did my brother just send me a text message saying 'Tai and I are getting married. Yes, we can do that. Don't freak out.'? Because I'm sort of freaking out."_

"They just decided to do it, out of the blue," she replied with a shrug.

_"Funny how many decisions those two make in that manner."_

"Tell me about it."

There were sounds in the background that Hikari took to mean that Takeru was fixing himself something in the microwave.

_"So, when's the, ah, wedding? Is it a wedding? Civil union?" _

"Wedding," Hikari corrected. "And it's in three days."

_"… THREE DAYS?!" _

"Deep breaths, Takeru!" she ordered. "Deep bre… Oh, my God, I really am just like my brother…"

While Hikari wallowed in this epiphany, Takeru could be heard abandoning his microwave meal and collapsing into the chair.

_"Hikari," _he managed to say, _"they're crazy. They are absolutely batshit crazy. And you know the worst part? They're not even kidding. Taichi said 'Hey, let's get married,' and Yamato was probably bored enough to agree. You remember when they made that bet with Sora-san? That they wouldn't have sex in the back of a taxi cab?" _

"…Unfortunately."

_"Yeah, then you'll also remember who got into the cab _after _them. My English professor! Now he won't even look at me without shuddering, because he's seen me with Yamato and knows we're brothers! My point is that if it were anyone else, anyone else's crazy spontaneous wedding, it probably wouldn't happen! They'd see reason, and say 'Oh, maybe we shouldn't go through with this, because it's _stupid _and Takeru has _exams _this week!'"_

"You're rambling," Hikari said weakly.

_"But NO!" _Takeru continued in near-hysterics. "Your _brother thinks that the whole world revolves around making Yamato happy, and unfortunately so does Yamato! God, if my brother wanted my _arm _amputated, Taichi'd be at my doorstep with a saw in less than an hour!"_

Hikari gave him a few moments to calm down before she quietly pointed out, "We love them, though. They're ridiculous and in their own little world, but we love them just the same. And we're going to the wedding, come hell or high water."

_"… Yeah," _Takeru sighed. _"I'll see if my friend Naoki will let us borrow his van."_

* * *

Ishida Yamato was a very happy, well-adjusted individual.

The previous statement is a lie. Ishida Yamato, the skinny, blonde guitarist with the perpetual scowl, was about as far from well-adjusted as one could get. He suffered from manic depression and was a recovering bulimic. He was moody, arrogant, antisocial, and all-around hard to deal with.

But there was one person who knew him better than Yamato knew himself.

"Yama-chaaaaaan," Taichi purred, crawling across the bed to crouch over his boyfriend. "You're the most beautiful person in the woooooorld…"

Yamato snorted and turned the page in his book. He was propped up with a mountain of pillows, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. "Oh, yeah? Says who?"

"Says me," Taichi said with a rather shit-eating grin. "The guy who reacquainted your face with the couch cushions last night."

"Proud of that, are you?"

"Heck yeah. How many people can say they've had Ishida Yamato's sweet ass?"

"About thirty," Yamato said quite seriously.

Taichi's face fell. "Well, then, you'd better get me their addresses so I can go smack some bitches around."

"They live in Brazil."

"All thirty of them?"

"Mm-hm."

"… When did you have sex with thirty people in Brazil?"

"You were taking a nap," Yamato responded airily.

The athlete sat back, one eyebrow quirked. "Is this what you normally do when I take naps?"

"No." Yamato glanced up, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Usually I sit next to you and watch you sleep."

"… Okay, then, creeper."

"You drool fountains," the blonde continued, turning another page. "It's somehow grotesque and adorable at the same time. Sometimes you gnaw on the pillow."

"'Cuz I'm dreaming about you." Taichi winked.

"You dream about gnawing on me?"

"Among other things."

"And what else do you gnaw on in your dreams?"

"No more banter," Taichi snapped. He moved to straddle his boyfriend's calves, then pulled the hem of Yamato's tee shirt up and pressed his face against the musician's flat, pale midriff. "Mmmmm, Yamato-tummy."

"God, you are so weird," Yamato chuckled, swatting the back of Taichi's head with his book. (It was paperback.) "Stop it. That tickles, you moron."

Taichi's response was to blow a loud raspberry into Yamato's belly button, which sent the blonde into fitful laughter.

"Go make yourself useful and order some takeout!" Yamato yelped. "Taichi, g- no, cut it out! Augh!"

After about four minutes of play-wrestling, Yamato ended up on top, his hair dishelved and his book long since tossed across the room. He smirked down at the darker man triumphantly.

"I win," he said simply.

Taichi grimaced in mock-apprehension. "What do you want for your prize?"

Yamato paused, considering. He then swooped down to kiss Taichi's lips, lingering only for a moment. He leaned back and looked very satisfied.

"Aww." Taichi pouted. "That's all? I was totally prepared to sign myself over to you for a live of servitude."

"You _are_ marrying me," Yamato pointed out. "That's just as good."

Taichi appeared dumbstruck by this reminder. "Oh, yeah." Then his face split into the biggest grin yet. "Yeah, that's right! How does it feel to be the future Mrs. Yagami Taichi?"

"I don't know," Yamato said, a little frostily. "I'll have to ask _her. _I am no Mrs. Yagami Taichi. Dumbass."

"But you're on bottom like seventy percent of the time!" Taichi argued.

"That doesn't make me a WOMAN!" Yamato shrieked.

"B-but… apron! Pink apron!!"

"Don't you mock my apron, Yagami," the blonde snarled. "It was a gift from Mimi and in no way denotes my status as wife."

"No! You don't understand!" Taichi howled in despair. "I'll come home from work and you'll be fixing dinner, wearing your cute little apron! And I'll grab you from behind and say something all husband-y, like 'Mm, smells good!' And you'll giggle and be demure! Sometimes you'll be naked under the apron! _That's how it is!"_

Yamato stared at his boyfriend flatly. "You know, I think I just figured out what you gnaw on in your dreams."

"Yama_tooooo!"_

"Stop whining. I'm not taking your last name."

Yamato moved to roll off of Taichi, but the stronger man caught him by the wrist and flipped them over so he now had Yamato trapped.

The musician glared up at him. "Get off of me, Taichi."

"Nuh-uh." Taichi shook his head. "Not until you admit that you long to be my beloved wifey."

"If you want a _wifey _so badly," Yamato snarled, "maybe you should've stayed with Sora after all."

Taichi looked like he had been slapped in the face. Yamato pushed him off easily and sat up, fixing his hair in the tense silence. He coughed.

"I didn't… I didn't mean it," Yamato muttered.

Taichi had a very lost look in his brown eyes. "I'm sorry, Yamato. I would never… You know I… Yamato, God, you know I only want _you, _right? I was just kidding around. I don't care who takes whose last name. In fact, it'd probably be easier if we kept the same names…"

Yamato interrupted him with another kiss, then slid into Taichi's lap. The athlete immediately wrapped his arms around Yamato's slim waist on reflex.

"What if…" Yamato began softly, "we shared our names?"

Taichi blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Like, if we hyphenated them. Ishida-Yagami."

"… Why does yours come first?"

"Because it flows better."

"Ishida-Yagami," Taichi tried it out slowly. "I dunno. It's kind of a mouthful, isn't it? How about we make up a _new _surname altogether?"

Yamato laughed, "Like what?"

"Like… Ishigami. Or Kamida."

"I think-" Yamato started, but was interrupted by Taichi's ferociously growling stomach. "… I think we should eat now. Go order takeout."

Taichi pouted. "You're not gonna cook?"

"I'm _tired."_

"Alright." Taichi reluctantly climbed off of his partner and then helped the taller man up, squeezing his hand one last time. "Is Chinese okay?"

"Sounds great."

Taichi left, and Yamato finally let his smile break through. It faltered after a few moments.

_Is this really a good idea? I mean—_

Taichi's fluffy head suddenly reappeared, a phone to his ear. "Hey, you mind if we get fried rice instead of white? Chen-san says that the steamer exploded this morning."

"That's fine with me," Yamato said.

Taichi grinned and went back into the kitchen.

_Never mind. _Yamato sat back on the bed and had to grit his teeth to keep from smiling again. _What is life without Taichi?_

* * *

**Author's Notes**

* * *

**So, you guys have probably noticed by now that I sometimes tweak the characters a little in my fics. Nothing too drastic, mostly just describing them as **_**actually **_**looking Japanese (I love anime, but… purple hair? Really? Oh, well, it's an art style, I suppose…) and obviously maturing their personalities a bit. It is AU, so I feel that I'm a little more at liberty to do so. **

**To avoid confusion, here's a basic list of where the gang currently are in their lives: **

**Taichi: **22; coaches a kids' soccer team and plays on one in his spare time; went to college for a year before dropping out  
**Yamato: **22; studio musician; plays at local bars sometimes; undergoing therapy for… stuff that happened in high school, to be discussed later in the fic  
**Hikari: **19; photographer and college student; wants to work for the same magazine as Takeru someday  
**Takeru: **19; journalism major at the same college as Hikari

**Also? I have no idea how long it would take to get from Tokyo to Miyazaki by car. I know they're on opposite ends of the country, and apparently it would be about eleven hours by Shinkansen. We'll just pretend for the sake of the plot that it'd take just about three days, mkay? Mkay.**

**Time to get back to working on **_**Glittering Wind. **_**Hehe. ;) **

**Much Love,  
Tisbee**


	2. A Night Apart

* * *

Roads Less Traveled

Chapter Two: A Night Apart

* * *

It wasn't that Takeru's friend Naoki was an untrustworthy-looking guy. In fact, upon meeting him, Hikari found the young man to be quite polite and pleasant-featured.

His van, on the other hand, gave a less respectable first impression.

"Yep, it was my grandpa's," he explained with a lopsided smirk, patting the rusty vehicle on the side door. (As a result, said door slid open with an almighty _WHOOOSHBANG, _making Hikari squeak and grab onto Takeru's arm.) "He's American, and this baby was ve-ry popular in the sixties."

"I can imagine," Takeru said grimly, after peeking into the back and finding the shag carpet absolutely covered in a rainbow of stains. The original color was impossible to determine. The walls were plastered with yellowed, peeling Grateful Dead posters, and there were a few throw-pillows strewn about. Hikari lifted one up, discovered a used condom, and quickly dropped the pillow. Her face was now considerably whiter, and she looked to Takeru helplessly.

"So, whaddya think?" Naoki awaited their answer eagerly. "You can have 'er for the weekend, and all I ask in return is for you to write my English paper for me."

Takeru groaned. "It's eight pages, Naoki!"

"Okay, then." Naoki shrugged. "Enjoy walking to Miyazaki."

Hikari and Takeru huddled off to the side, both more than a little uneasy.

"It doesn't even have windshield wipers," Hikari hissed.

"Or a right turn signal," Takeru added dully. "But we don't really have another option. Naoki's the only guy I know who has a car, and we can't afford anything else at this point."

They glanced back at Takeru's classmate, who was munching on a bag of mixed nuts. He waved to the couple cheerily.

"Is he… alright?" Hikari dared to ask her best friend.

"I hope so," the lanky boy sighed.

They completed the transaction, with Naoki handing the keys to Takeru and leaving with a loud whoop.

"Let's get our stuff loaded into this deathtrap," Takeru said. "We can pick up a map on the way."

* * *

Koguchi Nobuhiro was, if possible, even more offensive to the five senses than Naoki's van.

He was a sweaty, balding man in his mid-forties, hunched in posture and wearing a suit that had gone out of style ages ago. His cheeks were perpetually flushed, and in general he appeared to have just finished running a marathon.

"Ishida_-chan!" _Koguchi cooed, rushing to greet the younger man with a hug as the couple entered his house.

The hug never actually happened, of course, because there was a very wary Taichi who had immediately stepped in front of his boyfriend. Yamato appeared relieved.

"Hello, Koguchi-san," the musician greeted stiffly. "You look… well."

"As do you, Ishida-chan," Koguchi said. He smiled with a mouth full of yellow teeth. "Even better-looking than the last time I saw you. You were… eighteen then, yes? My God, they didn't have beautiful boys like you when I was younger!"

Yamato's eye twitched.

"I'm Yagami Taichi," the athlete blurted. "And even though you're creeping me out by indirectly flirting with my boyfriend right now, I'm still very grateful that you're helping us out like this."

"Uh… _yoroshiku," _Koguchi said. He gestured to his dining room. "I just made some tea. Please make yourselves at home."

Taichi and Yamato sat, taking in their surroundings blankly. There were no decorations on the white walls, and the table they sat at was chipped and ancient. It felt a little like a medieval hospital.

"Here we are." Koguchi soon returned with the teapot and mismatched cups. "Do either of you want milk or sugar?"

"Does it smell funny? _Ow!" _Taichi winced as Yamato elbowed him sharply. "Uh… yeah, I'd like some, please."

"Be right back."

The second Koguchi was out of the room, Taichi looked to Yamato with an expression of near-panic.

"This guy is _weird, _Yamato," he whispered. "And his house is weird. Can we please leave now?"

"This was _your _idea," Yamato reminded him. "It's not easy for two guys to get married in Japan, you know."

"We'll go to Las Vegas. Fat Elvis can marry us."

_"Taichi." _

The couple plastered fake smiles on as Koguchi returned with the milk and sugar.

"Here, Yagami-san." He passed both to the fluffy-haired soccer coach. "Take as much as you want."

Taichi nodded weakly and shoveled his usual three heaping spoonfuls of sugar into the tea. And the milk _did _smell funny, in his defense.

"Now, then, let's talk." Koguchi folded his hands in a businesslike manner. "How long have you two been together?"

The two young men met eyes for a brief moment. It was not a simple question to answer for them.

"Well, you see…" Yamato began slowly, "Taichi and I became neighbors when we were five, and we went to kindergarten together. We were best friends all through elementary school, and, ah… we sort of pretend-dated in fifth and sixth grade…"

"Pretend-dated?" Koguchi repeated in confusion.

Taichi chuckled. "Some of the other kids in our class started "dating," so I made sure to ask Yamato to be my boyfriend before any of the stupid girls did. Our families were kind of surprised, needless to say."

Koguchi raised an eyebrow.

"… We were strange kids," Yamato clarified.

"Ah. I see. Go on, then."

"So, um," Taichi took over, "we figured out at some point in middle school that we really did like each other that way… seventh grade?"

"Eighth," Yamato said. "Eighth for you. I always knew, personally."

"You did _not."_

"I did," the blonde growled. "You were just a huge _idiot _who was completely oblivious to the world around you. Still are by the way."

"Okay," Taichi conceded wearily, _"I _figured out my feelings for Yamato in eighth grade, and I guess that's when we started dating for real."

"So, eighth grade, then?" Koguchi looked shocked. "That's amazing."

"There was a period when we were in high school-" Yamato began, but Taichi cut him off.

"He doesn't need to know about that, Yamato."

"About what?" Koguchi asked.

Yamato glared at the wall. "You tell him, Taichi. It's _your _story, after all."

Koguchi waited while Taichi kicked at the carpet and took a gulp of lukewarm tea.

"I… um…" Taichi bit his lip. "I had a friend named Sora, a transfer student from Kyoto. _We _had a friend, actually."

"She was never my friend," Yamato muttered.

"Yes she _was, _Yama. Anyway, Sora had sort of a crush on me when we were second-years, and I thought it went away, but… well, Yamato and I had some… issues over the summer, and we broke up for a couple of weeks. And. Um. Stuff happened."

"'Stuff happened,'" Yamato mocked. "Mm-hm."

"He doesn't even need to _know _about this!" Taichi exploded angrily. "God, Yamato, you bring this up at _every _opportunity, don't you?!"

"If _I _slept with Sora during the _eleven days _we fought- not broke up, Taichi!- I think you'd still be pretty sore about it too!"

"How else do you want me to apologize?" Taichi nearly shouted. "It's not like I _meant _to do it!"

"What, did you trip and _accidentally _fall into her _vagina?" _

"You can be such an asshole sometimes, Yamato!"

"Well, apparently an asshole isn't _good _enough for you!"

"I was _seventeen! _I was _confused!"_

"Yeah, I was confused too! About why my boyfriend who _loved _me suddenly decided he needed to have sex with a girl just to be _sure _about what he felt!"

Up until this point Koguchi had been watching the argument like an angry tennis match, but when Yamato grabbed his teacup like a projectile, he decided it was time to intervene.

"Boys, maybe we should-"

"Forget the fucking wedding!" Yamato screamed. "Go marry a chick, if you want to so badly!"

"Fine! At least someone else might _want _to marry me, because I'm not such a heartless _bitch!" _

"Boys!" Koguchi tried again.

Taichi stormed out the front door, slamming it behind me. Luckily there were no wall hangings to fall and shatter.

Yamato sat quivering, his pale face now almost as red as Koguchi's. The former minister reached for him, but Yamato smacked his hand away and fled with a hasty "I'm really sorry about all of this, Koguchi-san."

After the musician was gone, Koguchi scratched the back of his head.

_What a bizarre couple. But, damn, Ishida-chan is sexy when he's mad._

* * *

What Yamato and Taichi had failed to remember was that they came in the same vehicle. Now both men stood on opposite sides of the car's hood, refusing to look at each other.

"Get in," Taichi muttered.

Yamato shook his head, arms crossed tightly. "No. I'll call Jyou and see if I can stay with him and Mimi tonight."

"You don't have to," the coach said. "I'll sleep on the futon."

"The futon hurts your back," Yamato reminded him while still managing to sound upset. "I haven't talked to them in a while anyway."

"Okay." Taichi opened the door and got into the front seat, sparing one glance at Yamato. "You, um… you want me to wait here with you, or…?"

"No, it's okay," Yamato said shortly. "I'll call you later."

"'Kay." Taichi looked as sad as he always did after a fight. Then he asked the question that he typically used to gauge how furious with him Yamato really was: "Can I kiss you?"

Yamato sighed. "It's better if you don't."

"… Oh. Alright. Talk to you later."

Just as Taichi put the key into the ignition, the passenger-side door swung open and Yamato leaned in to capture Taichi's lips in a quick, bruising kiss.

"I'm sorry," the blonde whispered against Taichi's mouth. "I'll apologize to you properly later. Just give me a night to cool off."

Of course Taichi knew this. While the athlete usually got over things very quickly, Yamato needed time to brood.

"I understand. I'm sorry too." Taichi kissed him again before Yamato got back out of the car.

"Bye," the musician said with a limp wave.

"Bye."

Taichi backed up and sped off. Yamato walked to a nearby bench and sat down, pulling from his jacket pockets his cell phone, a half-empty pack of Marlboros, and a lighter.

After the first few lungfuls of cancerous smoke, Yamato felt a little better. He dialed Kido Jyou's home number and waited for the medical student to pick up.

_"Hello?" _

"Hey, Jyou."

_"Oh, hey, Yamato." _He paused. _"Are you smoking? I thought you said you quit!"_

"I never said that," Yamato grunted, taking another long drag. "You said I should quit, and I said 'Yeah, that's probably a good idea.'"

_"It's one of the worst things you can do to your body." _

"Probably right up there with drinking hard liquor, taking addictive sleeping pills, self-mutilation, binging and purging, and sodomy, right?"

_"… What's wrong, Yamato?" _Jyou asked, concern evident in his tone. _"You sound terrible." _

Now the tears began to well up, and Yamato hated crying. He desperately scrubbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, but to no avail.

"It's nothing," he spat. "God, it's nothing. I j-just…"

_"A fight with Taichi?" _

"… Yes."

_"You need a place to stay tonight?" _

"I don't wanna bother you guys…"

_"It's never a bother," _Jyou said kindly. _"I know how you two are. A night apart is usually the best thing, right? I'll go fix up the sofa." _

"Thanks, Jyou," Yamato choked. "You're the best, man."

* * *

Jyou picked Yamato up in his "my-family-is-full-of-doctors-so-I-can-afford-a-nicer-car-than-you" car, and the two of them rode back to the older man's house in relative silence.

"What was it this time?" Jyou asked after a few minutes.

Yamato watched the nighttime sky outside the car window, wishing he hadn't just finished off the rest of his cigarettes. Not that Jyou would've let him smoke in his car, but still.

"It was my fault," he muttered, then added darkly, "as usual."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"No, it is," Yamato said. "It's the same fight we've had a thousand times, and I know Taichi's sorry and wishes he hadn't ever done it, but _God, _Jyou, I can't just forget it! And I hate myself for that…"

"You're talking about Sora-san, right?" Jyou turned onto his street.

"What else?"

The med student pulled into his own driveway and turned the car off. As he and Yamato walked to the front door, Jyou patted his friend on the shoulder.

"My advice is to simply not think about it."

Yamato snorted derisively. "Easy for you to say."

"No, I know how difficult it can be." Jyou frowned as he searched for his front door key. "You know how many boyfriends Mimi had before me? She's always been popular with the guys. As for me, Mimi was my first and only girlfriend. So I know how much it hurts to think of other people being with the one you love."

"But did Mimi ever have anyone else _while _you two were together?" Yamato couldn't help but ask snidely.

Jyou sighed and shook his head. "You really hate it when your friends try to help you, don't you, Yamato?"

He opened the door and took his shoes off before going inside. Yamato followed suit.

"Sorry," the musician said quietly.

Jyou smiled at him, before he quickly stepped aside to avoid being trampled by his much smaller, but still very fearsome, girlfriend.

_"Yamato!" _Mimi wailed, clinging to the blonde like a barnacle. "Oh, you poor baby! Jyou-tan already told me all about it! Abandoned by your lover!"

Yamato flinched at this. "We didn't break up, Mimi. We just had a fight and I needed some time away from him…"

"Shh. Hush, sweetheart. Come have some of the cookies I just made."

Yamato allowed the pretty young model to pull him into the kitchen, where a steaming plate of chocolate chip cookies awaited them.

Shortly after, the three friends sat around the table talking. Actually, only Mimi was talking. This was not abnormal.

"First of all, Yamato, I am very irritated with you for not telling me firsthand that Taichi asked you to marry him," Mimi scolded him, though she didn't seem very irritated. She was piling cookies on Yamato's plate while simultaneously braiding ribbons into his hair. "Jyou told me, and I just _burst _with happiness!"

This was actually the exact reason Yamato did not tell Mimi the news in person. He really hadn't fancied the idea of being smothered with hugs, squeals, and pictures of wedding cakes until Mimi simply passed out from overexcitement.

"Secondly, I'm very disappointed in you for your actions tonight," she continued. "Imagine, yelling at your nice boyfriend like that in front of the man who's going to marry you!"

"Mimi, honey, you sound like a teacher," Jyou whispered.

The woman ignored him. She picked a green ribbon out of the pile and then combed out a small section of Yamato's soft hair to be plaited.

"Now, Yamato, I know this Sora girl. We met when I had that gig in Tokyo, remember? She's sweet, but really not much to look at. What _are _you worried about? What does she have that you don't?"

"Breasts," Yamato said without missing a beat. "Ova. A womb."

"Oh, hush," Mimi chided with a soft smack against Yamato's arm. "None of those things matter in the eyes of love."

"They matter when your boyfriend wants kids someday," Yamato said.

Mimi's eyes widened and her hands paused in their actions. "Oh. Oh, Yamato, sweetie, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he mumbled, and stood up before Mimi could continue. "I think I'm gonna go to bed now, okay?"

"O-okay," the model said hesitantly. "You want me to take the ribbons back out?"

"No, I'll do it."

Mimi looked at Jyou sadly as Yamato slunk off.

"Jyou-pon," she sighed, "he'll be okay, right?"

The med student took his glasses off and polished them on the edge of his sweater. He then replaced them and shrugged a little.

"He'll be okay when he's back with Taichi. He's always weird like that when they're having problems."

* * *

The first few things Takeru discovered about Gomi-kun (as Hikari had named the van) were that there were no working seatbelts, the passenger-side rearview mirror was cracked down the middle, and there was a strange aroma of hot dogs that permeated the whole vehicle.

"It's… nice," said Hikari, whose mother had taught her to always say something polite, even when faced with something as objectionable as Gomi-kun.

Takeru had no such sense of tact instilled in him.

"That bastard Naoki," he growled, after fighting with the clutch for over three minutes to shift gears. "I am going to write him the _worst _essay _ever." _

Hikari smiled uneasily, then looked down at the map they had bought in Meguro.

"So, if we sleep for seven hours a night, only stop once to stock up on food, and there are no delays, we should be able to make it to Miyazaki right on time."

"Awesome," Takeru said with remarkable enthusiasm for one so frustrated. He pressed down on the gas pedal, and after a few seconds of sputtering noises from the engine, the van finally began backing up. "Illegitimate wedding ceremony, here we come."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

* * *

**Mm, not much Takeru and Hikari in this chapter. Don't worry- next chapter's mostly about them. :)**

**I see Yamato and Taichi's relationship as a very strong, but still very complicated one. Just like in the canon, they fight constantly and sometimes can't stand to look at each other, but deep down they couldn't live apart and each would truly do anything for the other. It's love/hate in the truest sense, and it's why I fell in love with Yamachi to begin with. Taichi is brave, impulsive, selfless, and sometimes downright stupid, but always has good intentions. Yamato on the other hand is quiet, calculating, withdrawn, and can be a real jerk without realizing it. They are both perfect compliments and horrible antagonists for each other. XD Theirloveissomasochistic, haha. **

**Okay, enough about Yamachi. (Shwhat?!) I want the readers' input on this: Takori or Takesuke? Because I've written so much Takari that I really want to try pairing TK with someone else. Here's the basic, rough plotline I've thought up for each pair, obviously subject to change dramatically as I see fit: **

**Takori: **Iori is a young runaway TakeHika pick up along the way. He feels that he is a burden on his grandfather and TakeHika agree to let him ride with them, until he figures out exactly what he wants to do. Takeru is fascinated by the kid, and the two find out that they have lots in common. Cue BL.

**Or, for something completely different: **

**Takesuke: **TakeHika discover a stowaway in the back of their van, namely wiseass punk Daisuke, who immediately gets on Takeru's nerves. Lots of arguing and sexual tension, which is adorably reminiscent of YamaTai's early years, as Hikari is quick to point out.

**Tell me whatcha think. :3 I'm totally pumped to write either, or perhaps even a bizarre love triangle, if that floats your boat. … Y'know, actually, there are endless possibilities for Takeru, Iori, Daisuke, Hikari, Ken, and Miyako. I'm fine with anything. Please give me some input, unless you want me to go with my first weird impulse and have a van!orgy. **

* * *

**Replies to Reviewers**

* * *

**SugarSpiral: **Bees' knees! And my name is Bee! Ahahahaha… haha… okay, I'm done. Thank you for your awesome review! Hope you still like it after this chapter…

**Dark-Angel-XX: **Wow, I'm honored to have a review from you. :) You're seriously one of my favorite Yamachi writers on here. And now that I look back, Taichi does sound unnaturally bright in the conversation with Hikari. Maybe he was just having a good day, heh.

**PrincessJaded: **Thank you! Haha, I'm glad you liked that line, because I had a hard time thinking of one that got the point across but wouldn't earn Taichi a punch in the face.

**Much Love,  
Tisbee**


	3. Tasty Love Ramen Shop

* * *

Roads Less Traveled

Chapter Three: Tasty Love Ramen Shop

* * *

"Takeru, I think we should stop for the night," Hikari said about two hours after the sun had gone down. "You look really tired."

"… Yeah." Takeru heaved a deep breath and ran a hand through his messy hair. He was slumped over the steering wheel, with his long legs cramping and beginning to twitch. They had been driving almost nonstop for fourteen hours, only parking to stock up on energy drinks, bread, bananas, and Spam.

"You wanna take a nap in the back?" the Yagami girl asked softly.

Takeru chuckled. "What, and you drive?"

"I've driven a car before," Hikari said defensively.

"Yeah, but it was probably in at least semi-drivable _condition._ I'll be fine for another hour or so."

"Takeru…" Hikari began, before something in the distance distracted her. "Hey, what's that?"

There was a person walking along the side of the road, small in stature and dragging a contrastingly large suitcase behind him. His head was bowed, and covered by the hood of his gray sweatshirt.

"Poor guy," Takeru muttered. "It's freezing out here. Wonder where he's going…"

Hikari's bleeding heart was already gushing, and she looked to her friend imploringly.

"Takeru, can we stop for him? If he's on the way, we could give him a ride. It's dark out, and that's no good for a kid as young as him."

"He could just be short," Takeru pointed out, but he was already putting the brakes on. (As was made obvious by the horrid screeching from said brakes.)

They rolled to a stop beside the nervous-looking boy. He appeared to be no older than fifteen, with a roundish face and hair that was dangerously close to being bowl-cut. He clutched his suitcase handle for protection, though Hikari doubted he could even lift it off the ground.

Takeru grappled with the window crank before giving up and moving to just open the door. Before he could do so, the window collapsed like a guillotine. Takeru blinked, then leaned out to talk to the young boy.

"Hey, um… do you need a ride?"

The boy was apprehensive. "I… I don't think so…"

Takeru frowned. "C'mon- it's cold as hell out here."

"That's a contradiction," the boy said quietly.

"… Huh?"

"Hell isn't cold," he clarified. "Or, at least, in most religious texts…"

The lanky journalist raised an eyebrow. "Do you want a ride or not, kid?"

The boy bit his lip, glanced over his shoulder as if someone was watching him, then nodded quickly and allowed Takeru to hop out and help him with his luggage.

Hikari settled back into her seat and frowned at the time displayed on her cell phone screen. What was a kid so young doing walking around at night?

_You can't be much older, _she had to chide herself.

Takeru assisted the boy in climbing into the back of the van, where he settled in a corner cautiously, still watching the pair of older people with his large, luminous eyes.

"His name's Hida Iori," Takeru said as he got back into the driver's seat and slammed the door. The window shot back up, scaring him a little. "That's all he told me."

Hikari made a point to smile warmly at the boy. _"Hajimemashite, _Iori-kun. My name is Yagami Hikari."

Iori flushed magenta and picked at the carpet. _"Yoroshiku."_

Takeru started the engine again with little trouble for once, then glanced over his shoulder. "So, where are you headed, kid?"

Little Iori buried his face in his knees and shrugged.

"You… don't know," Takeru deadpanned. He slowly turned back around. "Okay, that's cool. I guess you're going to a wedding, then."

The boy perked up a little at this. "I like weddings."

Takeru snorted. "Yeah, well, you've probably never been to one like this before."

* * *

Yamato made sure to leave a note for Jyou and Mimi early the next morning before he departed. The sun had barely risen, and the air was practically frigid.

He wrapped the scarf Mimi had knitted for him a little more securely around his neck and rubbed his ungloved hands together to generate heat. Yamato hated being cold. He _hated _it, which was part of the reason he insisted that Taichi and he move somewhere coastal, where—

Taichi. Taichi Taichi Taichi.

He shook his head and rubbed two fingers against his throbbing temples. Before going to sleep the night before, Yamato had gone ferreting around Mimi's kitchen and found the bottle of red wine she kept for cooking. Said bottle was now three-quarters-empty and Yamato was nursing a massive hangover. Of course, in the note he left was an apology and a small handful of cash to compensate for the alcohol.

Yamato took a deep breath and kept walking. The nearest bus station was two miles away, and Yamato was about as in-shape as any chainsmoking former bulimic could hope to be. He could already feel his lungs beginning to burn, but it would be worth it in the end.

He needed some time to think before facing his boyfriend again. Yamato could pour his heart and soul into lyrics, but when it came to having a conversation with someone he cared about, he was a failure.

* * *

It was broad daylight when he reached his apartment. He leaned against the door for a few minutes to get his heaving breaths under control, then pulled his house key from his pocket and opened the door.

There were no lights on yet, obviously. Yagami Taichi was not a morning person by any means. Yamato heard the familiar, guttural snoring from the back of the apartment, and this made his heart rate speed right back to where it had been.

Yamato unwound his scarf and slipped his jacket off, leaving both on the back of the sofa. He quietly made his way to the bedroom, where Taichi was sprawled on the mattress, sheets in a tangle around his feet. The young coach's t-shirt and boxers had been pulled in opposite directions while he slept, leaving a good portion of his sculpted chest and stomach visible.

Yamato swallowed the lump in his throat and moved to the edge of the bed. He hovered over Taichi's waist, more unsure of himself than he even was usually. Making up his mind, he kissed his boyfriend's exposed hipbone gently, then again with more resolution.

Taichi stirred a little, and one sleep-muddled eye cracked open.

"Yama-chan?" he slurred, his voice cracking in a tired way.

Yamato nodded. It felt as though everything inside him was crumbling as Taichi's expression filled with warmth.

"Hey, honey," the coach mumbled. _"Okaeri."_

Yamato choked on a sob and crawled into bed beside his lover, completely melting into the arms Taichi offered him.

"I'm an asshole, Taichi- you're right," he spoke against the athlete's chest.

Taichi frowned. "I'm sorry I called you that."

"I_ am _one though. And all of the other stuff you said was true, too- I'm selfish, and a complete bitch sometimes, a-and--"

Taichi cut him off with a firm kiss, which Yamato returned earnestly. They kissed in silence for a long moment, until Taichi broke away and gave the blonde a stern look.

"Yamato, you are really hard to deal with sometimes, yeah. In fact, I've wondered before how _anyone _else can put up you."

"Anyone else?" Yamato repeated questioningly.

"Well, yeah." Taichi smiled. "I mean anyone who isn't so completely in love with you that they couldn't look past all of that."

That's when Yamato lost it. He broke down into self-depreciating tears as Taichi held him and touched his hair soothingly.

"Stop crying," Taichi said quietly. "You know I love you, Yamato. Geez, and you call _me _the stupid one."

"You are, for staying with me," Yamato wept bitterly. "Goddamn it, Taichi, _why _are you so perfect? I don't deserve you at _all."_

"Look at me."

Yamato sniffed, then obeyed, gazing deep into brown eyes that could never lie to him. "You should be with someone as good as you, Taichi. Not me. I…"

"Maybe you're still hungover, Yama- don't look shocked, you know I can tell when you've been drinking- because I don't think what I'm saying is getting to you here, or _has _been getting to you for a while now."

Taichi gripped both sides of his boyfriend's face firmly, then said in a loud voice, "I. _Love._ You. I. Do. Not. Care. If. You. Are. Not. Perfect. You. Are. My." He kissed him once more. _"Yama."_

No more words were needed. Yamato closed his eyes and moaned softly as his best friend, his lover, his _everything, _began slowly unbuttoning the shirt he had slept in, trailing his lips over white-pale skin.

"Taichi, I want to marry you," he whispered breathlessly. "I want to be your- _ahh!- _husband. I'm so s-sorry for saying I d-didn't."

"Knew you were lying about that," Taichi murmured, his lips tickling Yamato's navel and making the musician's hips twitch forward in response.

"Y-you did?"

"'Course." Taichi threw his boyfriend a roguish wink before unsnapping Yamato's skintight jeans with a practiced ease. "After all, who wouldn't want to marry _me?" _

* * *

"We're lost."

"We're not _lost," _Hikari insisted at Takeru's horrifying words.

"No," piped up Iori from the back, "I'm pretty sure we're lost."

They had stopped at a cheap motel for the night, with Hikari taking the only bed and the two boys sleeping on the floor. Iori had slowly become more talkative, but was still unwilling to speak about where he came from or why he was running away. Instead, it rapidly became clear that he was fond of useless facts, random insight, and agreeing with whatever Takeru said.

"Well," Hikari huffed, "if you're so sure we're lost, then let's stop at that restaurant over there. We can ask for directions."

"… 'Tasty Love' Ramen Shop?" Takeru read the sign skeptically.

"Okay, then. Don't ask for directions. Let's just drive around aimlessly."

Sighing, Takeru did as he was told. The trio pulled the van into a parking spot (barely managing to fit the behemoth vehicle into one without double-parking), and entered Tasty Love with matching looks of nervousness.

_"Irasshaimase!" _the waitress greeted them cheerily. She was a tall, shapely young woman with a curtain of silky hair that fell nearly to her waist. Her eyes sparkled almost mischievously behind retro, thick-framed glasses. "Take a seat anywhere you like."

The interior of the shop was rather plain, especially given the name of the place. Takeru, Hikari, and Iori sat down at a booth off to the side, and were quickly provided with menus from the waitress.

"My name's Miyako," she told them brusquely. "Order anything you like, and I'll have the-" she suddenly whipped her head around to scream, "-DUMBASS-" then turned back around, "-in the kitchen whip it up for you as fast as his tiny little brain allows."

There was an outraged string of curses from the back of the store, and out marched a short, fit young man in an apron, grinding his teeth and wielding a vegetable peeler quite threateningly.

"Goddamn it, Miyako, you're gonna drive away all of our customers!" he snapped. Hikari couldn't help but notices how boyishly good-looking the chef was- probably around her own age, with sun-browned skin and wildly spiky hair that was tinted burgundy. He wasn't her type per se, but she could still appreciate a pretty face.

The waitress placed her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed dangerously. "The only thing that'll drive away our customers is your tendency to be a complete _man-whore, _Daisuke."

Iori coughed. Just like that, the tension was shattered, and Daisuke marched back to the kitchen, grumbling under his breath.

Miyako rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry about that, folks."

"That's… fine," Takeru said slowly. "Actually, we're really just here for directions… but I guess a snack would be okay. I'd just like a small bowl of chicken ramen, please."

Hikari blinked at him in confusion. Was Takeru not the one who insisted so vehemently that they not stop for _any _unnecessary reason? And there were still three cans of Spam and some bottled water left, so their food situation was not life-threatening.

"One small chicken." Miyako scribbled the order down, tongue sticking out in concentration. "M'kay. What about the girl with the cute sweater?"

Hikari smiled shyly. "Oh, I'm not really hungry…"

"C'mon, Hikari," Takeru insisted. "I'll pay."

"Small shrimp ramen," she blurted. It was a long-upheld Yagami tradition to never, under _any _circumstances, turn down free food.

"And I'd like curry-flavored," Iori said, hanging the waitress his menu. "Please."

Miyako winked at him. "No problem, kiddo. I'll go let the stupid bastard know."

She sashayed off, leaving the table in dumbfounded silence.

"That was… odd," Hikari said at length.

Takeru nodded hesitantly. "There's obviously some drama in the kitchen. You think anyone else works here?"

Suddenly there was the sound of pots and pans being thrown about, and Miyako reappeared in a flash of movement.

"And your hair is _stupid!" _Miyako shrieked over her shoulder. She hastily composed herself and then rejoined her only customers. "You guys mind if I sit with you for a minute? I'm bored."

"Are you two… um…" Takeru looked for the right words. "I mean, is this some sort of lovers' spat?"

"OH, GOD NO," Miyako howled. "I would never _touch _that little freak, unless it was to _punch _him in the _balls!"_

"I see," Takeru said. He shot Hikari a look that the girl interpreted as something along the lines of: _"I was wrong. This chick is psycho. We should leave now."_

Hikari countered with her own imploring look, this one reading: _"But I love shrimp ramen. Actually, anything that isn't Spam would be nice right now. I want to stay."_

Takeru groaned. Iori, currently seated next to the older boy, blinked in confusion. Obviously he could not decipher this secret language between the two college students. (Of course, take into consideration that Takeru and Hikari had known each other since they were in diapers.)

"So, where're you guys going?" Miyako asked suddenly.

"Miyazaki," Hikari answered.

Miyako whistled. "Whoo, that's still a long way away. By the ocean, though, right? That must be nice. I'd love to go there."

Hikari shrugged idly, and scooted over to allow Miyako the spot next to her. "We're going to a wedding," the photography student informed her. "Actually, it's in two days, so… we'd really better hurry."

"A wedding?" Miyako gasped. "Oh my God, I _love _weddings. My brother got married a few years ago, and it was so cool. I can't wait until I get married someday."

"Don't get your hopes up," the voice of the young chef interrupted them. He approached their table with three steaming bowls of ramen on a tray. "Who the hell would want to marry you? And stop slacking- it's _your _freakin' job to take the orders to customers. I'm just supposed to make 'em."

Miyako snorted. "Oh, and _you're _one to be lecturing me."

Takeru took a hesitant sip of his ramen broth. His eyes bulged. "Holy crap… this is amazing! Did you make this yourself?"

Daisuke grinned. "Yep, all me."

"My family owns this place," Miyako told them haughtily. "Mom found this brat wandering around homeless, and we gave him a job. He makes good ramen. S'about all he can do right."

Daisuke's grin turned into a wicked smirk. "Oh, that's not _all _I do right."

"Sorry, my mistake." Miyako clucked her tongue. "He's also a step below a prostitute."

"While I won't deny the fact that most people _would _pay a fortune to have sex with me…"

"A fortune?" Miyako snorted. "You'd screw anything for a few hundred yen."

"Excuse me," Takeru interjected. "Are you two always like this? You're kind of ruining my appetite."

Miyako and Daisuke stared at the customers, as if they had forgotten they had any.

"She broke my nose," Daisuke said finally, pointing to it. It was indeed a bit crooked, but not noticably so.

"He slept with my boyfriend," Miyako added. "Well, ex-boyfriend."

"He was _confused. _I _helped _him."

"Yeah," Takeru said loudly, "I think we'll be going now."

He slid out of his booth and pulled Iori after him.

"But…" Hikari felt near-tears. "Ramen!"

"I'll buy you ramen _later," _Takeru hissed. Miyako (who did not look like she was going to move and let Hikari out anytime soon) and Daisuke met eyes for a second, then leapt into action.

"Sexy tall guy and friends," Daisuke blurted, (much to Takeru's flabbergastment… flabbergastery?) "if you take me with you, I will make you as much ramen as you want. Get me out of this hellhole. I hate Miyako. I think that if I have to work here another day I'll shoot her in her fat face."

"Shut up," Miyako snapped. She then implored Takeru, _"Please _let me go to the wedding with you guys. It's so _boring _around here, and I'd love to see the ocean. Please?!"

Takeru shook his head. "No, no, I'm sorry- we have a no-psychos rule in the van."

"I think it'd be okay," Hikari said. "There's room in the back."

_"You just want ramen. _They are not coming."

Takeru fished in his pocket for a moment, threw a crumpled wad of money on the table, then grabbed Iori and Hikari and made a mad dash to the parking lot.

It was a few seconds before Daisuke turned to his hated coworker.

"Y'know…" he began slowly, "there're only two motels within a day's driving distance. So, theoretically, we could-"

"I'll go pack," Miyako squealed. "Oh, wow, I _love _adventures."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

* * *

**Ugh… I've just been so tired lately. And I have no idea why- I've been getting like ten hours of sleep a night. (What? I **_**like **_**sleep.) I guess it's because I tend to get sleepy when I'm stressed. No worries, though; a ridiculously fragrant shower and some caramel popcorn and I'm good as new. Oh, and Matt Doyle as Peter on the **_**Bare: A Pop Opera **_**soundtrack definitely helps. (My favorite Peter by **_**far. **_**He's just so skinny and adorable…) **

**Q: Hey, Bee, why aren't you updating **_**Glittering Wind?**_

**A: … Yeah, about that. It seems that my creative flow has unexpectedly shifted from dramangst to humoromance. :/ Sorry, guys. It's not exactly something I can change at will. I'll let you know the **_**minute **_**I get inspiration for **_**GW **_**again, though. Don't worry- it's definitely not on hiatus. In fact, I have two pages of the next chapter written, but now I'm sort of stuck.**

**In other news, the reviewers have spoken, and it looks like I'll be going with Takesuke for this one. :) I'm quite pleased, because now I actually have some semblance of a plot forming in my odd little brain. **

* * *

**Replies to Reviewers**

* * *

**Twilight in Rain: **Good thing that addictions and weirding people out were the reactions I was going for! :D Haha, thanks for reviewing!

**Potgenie: **I know, and I love Takari too… It's just that I've been writing too much of it lately. I already had it planned for them to be more of a sibling-like pair in this one, too. Buuuut, there just might be some Kenyako in the near future… ;)

**PrincessJaded: **Seriously? Wow, that's an honor. :D I'm a die-hard Yamachi fan, but I love Mimi too, so I can't exactly hate your ship. (Not that I hate any ships. That's mean.) Thank you so much for sticking with this story anyway! That's a huge compliment to a fanfic author.

**SugarSpiral: **Thank yoooooou! I love writing Mimi. She can brighten even the darkest of angst sessions.

**Much Love,  
Tisbee**


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